


The Lazarus Project

by cinnamon_skull



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-08
Updated: 2016-05-18
Packaged: 2018-05-31 22:47:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6490342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cinnamon_skull/pseuds/cinnamon_skull
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A place for all my JayTim drabbles. </p><p>"We were together. I forget the rest." -- W.W.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. This is not what it looks like

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr Prompt: This is not what it looks like

 

“Replacement?” Jason called out once he shut the front door.

They were meeting to go over a case—something about imports and hallucinogenic drugs—but Jason was late. Someone roughed up one of the working girls from around the corner and he’d intervened, only for it to turn into a ten-block shootout.

Bruce was not going to be happy. Which made Jason endlessly happy.

He had expected Tim to let himself in to his apartment while he finished up the chase. They hadn’t worked more than a handful of cases, but his replacement was quickly becoming one of the most interesting people Jason had ever met.

He wasn’t like Dick with his showy smiles and fiery temper, slipping and sliding all over conversations until you felt dizzy from it. And he wasn’t like Bruce, either, with his harsh lines and his silence. Tim was… dangerous.

But Tim wasn’t in Jason’s sparse kitchen or his messy living room with the scratched up coffee table. Ever the optimist, Jason even checked his bedroom—damn, that boy had a pair of legs—but no sign Tim.

That left…

No.

Jason slowly kicked open the door to garage.

There was Tim. Sitting on an old tire, elbow deep in his bike’s engine. There were parts strewn all over the table and floor, the red side panel had been removed and….yep, Tim had definitely found his blow torch.

Jason made an angry, helpless sound. Tim’s head snapped up from where he had been bent over and prodding the throttle valve with a screwdriver.

Jason hadn’t thought it possible but yes, there was something even more horrible than his bike's entrails strewn all over the place.

Because Tim had a black smudge on his cheekbone that looked like it was meant to be there like some crazy high fashion fad. Tim’s hair was pulled back in a bun at the top of his head, except not very well, since silky strands were falling out over his eyes. And the worst part was the thick-framed, tortoise shell glasses sliding down Tim’s nose that belonged at a Wayne Enterprises’ board meeting, not Jason’s tiny, dirty garage.

And that was all terrible and awful, because Tim made Jason’s mouth dry and his palms sweaty, even as his blood boiled at the sight of his bike in such disarray.

Tim calmly pushed his glasses up with his index finger, smearing a line of grease as he went. “This is not what it looks like.”

“Oh?” Jason asked sharply. “Explain it to me, then.”

“I made it better.” Tim shrugged as if he weren’t inches from his own death after having the audacity to touch Jason’s bike.

His baby.

“It?” Jason repeated, numbly. His voice sounded hollow to his own ears.

The corner of Tim’s mouth twitched. “Oh, sorry. Her.”

Jason tensed all over. Tim didn’t even sound sorry!

“I could kill you for this,” Jason said. And it was true. No one touched his bike—not Dick, not Alfred, not fucking Bruce.

No one.

“You could,” Tim agreed, and then shot Jason a smug look over the rim of his glasses. “But you won’t.”

Jason clenched his helmet between his fists. “The fuck you know, bird boy?”

“You’ll see, when you take her for a ride.” Tim stretched over the bike like he owned the thing, cool and confident and burning inside with some kind of death wish. “Don’t you trust me?”

“Less than when I didn’t trust you before,” Jason replied, but there wasn’t really any sting to it. Mostly, he tried to keep the awe from his voice.

He imagined this must have been what Bruce felt, when he found Jason stealing the wheels off the batmobile.

Tim didn’t look bothered by Jason’s remark, just perfect and pretty getting down and dirty with his favorite bike. There was that same smile on his face, equal parts amused and arrogant. “Fair. Now, do you want to help or are you going to just stand there?”

 _You are dangerous_ , Jason thought.

But he still bent down and handed Tim a wrench. When their fingers brushed against the cool metal, Jason though of another four-letter word beginning with the letter k.

 

 


	2. I can’t believe you believed me!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr prompt: “I can’t believe you believed me!”

 

Tim buries his burning face in his hands, trying and failing to hide his bright red cheeks. “Please go away.”

Jason laughs, deep and wild, and Tim might like the sound of it under different circumstances. “Can’t,” Jason says between throaty gasps. “Too much fun.”

“You’re the only one having fun here!” Tim bites back, glaring at Jason’s smug face.

He stops laughing then, but the grin doesn’t leave his lips. There something else floating between them now, unsaid. “I can’t believe you believed me.”

Tim groans again and pulls his ratty sweatshirt over his head, because he’d rather live the rest of his life like some cave dweller than face Jason ever again. And Dick or Damian, who probably already have pictures and a ten-page report on the whole ordeal.

It wouldn’t be so embarrassing if he hadn’t…reacted the way he did. If there hadn’t been… a moment.

“You know the rules,” Jason says, wagging a finger in his direction. “No discerning marks.”

“Since when did you ever follow the rules, Jay?” Tim shrugs helplessly. “It’s just the sort of petty rebellion you’d do just to piss off B.”

“Don’t be rude,” Jason says, but Tim can still hear the grin in his voice.

Tim can still see it, burning at the backs of his eyelids. The way Jason had casually lifted his arms to stretch, revealing curving black letters just under the jut of his left hipbone.

_**Babybird.** _

Tim had sputtered and dropped his glass, shattering pieces everywhere. It hadn’t mattered then – he’d stepped over the glass shards and pressed Jay up against the kitchen wall, tracing his fingers over the tattoo like he’d been drawn to it.

Jason had looked at him then, through hooded eyes that hid the flames of his feelings, tried to bury the truth with silent mirth, but Tim had seen it. He _liked_ Tim’s reaction more than he was letting on, liked the possessive dig of Tim’s fingers into the letters like he was trying to pull the secret right from Jason’s skin.

Jason tried to laugh it off like it was all part of one big joke, and Tim had hissed and turned bright red when he realized it was only a temporary tattoo.

Still, there had been a moment where their breaths had mingled and their bodies had slotted together, and no one had been laughing.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow @ cinnamonskull and @jayskulll for your JayTim needs.


	3. The Perfect Shade for Halloween

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr prompt: Jason's reaction to Tim dresses up as Red Hood for Halloween?

He’d always known that Tim looked best in red. Something about his perfect, milky white skin that just begged to be laid out against the color. It did things to the fine, blueish veins lacing his skin and brought out a gentle, ruddy dusting to his cheeks that made Jason want to do very bad things.

And even though he’d asked for it, nothing could have fully prepared him for when Tim emerged from the bathroom decked out in his own brown leather jacket and skintight shirt, belt slung low over his skinny hips and his helmet pressed under one arm.

_Red Hood._

He looked both entirely too innocent and very much in control that Jason instantly felt himself harden. It was those piercing blue eyes of Tim’s, those depthless wells of beauty that left him tongue-tied and stumbling on his best days.

“Is it like you thought?” Tim asked, a slight hitch in his voice, even with the cocky tilt of his hips.

_Better._

Not to mention the hot flush staining Tim’s cheeks. Jason knew it spread down his neck and onto his chest, because Tim was a full body blusher and nothing got Jason going more than the thought of that pretty red all over his skin.

“Put it on,” Jason said, more breathlessly than he wanted. “And I’ll tell you.”

Tim brushed his gloveless fingers through his hair and then cradled the helmet between his palms, and Jason didn’t think he’d ever seen anything more sinful than those graceful digits spread across such shining crimson.

And then he slid it over his long locks, and the grinning veneer of Tim Drake disappeared behind the hood. It felt as if all the air had been sucked from the room.

Tim prowled closer to the bed and there was a dangerous edge to his movements that was definitely more Tim than the costume. He didn’t stop until he was straddling Jason’s hips on the bed, his hands coming up and pushing Jason down so that he was lying flat on his back.

And then he slowly dipped his head as if asking a question.

_How about now, Jay?_

But Jason didn’t have any more words for either of them. As he slid the hood from Tim’s face, and then the jacket, his only thought was that Tim Drake was far too pretty and way too good to hide his face behind such a thing.

So maybe there was a shade of red that didn’t suit Tim perfectly. That was okay.

Besides, Jason had always thought that Tim looked best sprawled out against his cherry bedsheets, and that was the only kind of red they needed tonight.

 

 


	4. Uncharted Territory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Viking AU that everyone needed.

They fought hard and fierce, ax trailing after sword in the pouring rain until mud splashed from the ground with every strain of muscle.

Lightning flashed and thunder cracked, but nothing could stop the onslaught of violence. No man or sword could touch Jason — men were felled by the sharp twist of his wrist and the swing of his blade. A hit to his shield vibrated through the chaos like a death rattle, and the enemy shook in their fear. 

Jason could defeat mountains when he had Tim at his back, could level fields and sow the earth with broken bones with Tim’s laugh snapping at his heels at every turn. And the way Tim moved on the battlefield, twisting and agile like a snake, like fire, a tunnel of pure chaos — and always with that crooked smile on his handsome face.

Even after so many battles, Jason still felt awed by the sight of Tim in a fight, all lithe, sinewy muscles dancing around danger like it was all some game. 

They had the gods on their side, and the ravens cawed victory before nightfall. There was drinking and merriment, the blood washed by the passing storm, the dead laid to rest in their fiery pyres and sent floating into the next life as honored warriors.

And there, that same wicked smile on Tim’s lips as he stared up at Jason in the privacy of their hut. His face framed by soft, grey fur pellets as the fire made shadows against his striking skin. Tim’s hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail, threaded through with beads and string and symbols of good fortune that gleamed in the firelight. 

“How many today?” Jason asked, pushing the rough tunic from Tim’s chest until he could run his hand over his bare torso. He felt every scar, evert twitch of Tim’s skin responding to his touch. 

Tim wrapped a strong hand around Jason’s wrist, rubbing a gentle thumb over his pulse. “More than you.”

Jason raised an eyebrow. “That so, warrior?”

“I saw it in the stars,” Tim said, pulling Jason closer so that he was straddling Tim's narrow hips. “Everything that will ever happen has been written in the sky.”

“What of us?” Jason asked, watching the way Tim’s eyes glittered and then slid shut at the feel of Jason’s thighs rubbing against him. “Are you to be by my side forever?”

“The king of warriors doesn’t need a prince,” Tim answered coyly. “Men already bow at your feet.

“You don’t bow to any man.” Jason moved to press Tim’s wrists into the furs near his head, brining their bodies closer. “Certainly not to me.”

“I would if you asked,” Tim whispered, pushing his hips up to meet Jason’s, sending heat spiraling though their bodies.

Jason hissed, bending to mouth at the skin of Tim’s throat, which he offered to him like a gift for gods. He could feel Tim’s pulse beating beneath his lips, and the weatherworn skin bruised under his touch.

“I could make kingdoms, with you by my side,” Jason breathed into Tim’s ear. And he marveled, even after everything, after all the close calls and the shadows of the dead that pressed against his back, that he could touch something so wild and powerful without getting burned.

“Is that what you want?” Tim asked, running a finger through the drying, celebratory paint on Jason’s cheekbone. Red for victory, red to mourn those lost. Tim smeared it down Jason’s chest until his fingers caught in the thick belt at his hips. 

“No,” Jason said, leaning down to finally capture Tim’s lips in a hard, brief kiss. He could feel the paint slide between their faces as Tim went pliant under his touch. It heated his insides, thinking about how much Tim trusted him, wanted him, under the watchful gaze of the gods and the midnight sky.

When he pulled back slightly, Tim was marked, just like Jason and red all over. His cheeks, his parted lips. “I just want you. Forever.“

“You have me,” Tim whispered against his lips, pushing back until Jason felt the air leave his lungs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks Tanekore for inspiring this. Check out her tumblr for breathtaking, Viking! Tim.


	5. The Keeper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim is Jason's keeper.
> 
> Inspired by tumblr prompts: Jaytim, Stolen Coat, "I'm flirting with you"?

“I knew you stole it,” Jason says quietly with his mouth against Tim’s hipbone. He feels the vibrations of Jason’s voice all the way down to his toes.

Tonight, Jason’s movements are filled with a kind of patient, meticulous care that he usually reserves for his guns. Tim wonders, briefly, if he’s managed to impress him. 

“Stealing is such an ugly word,” Tim breathes, twisting his fingers around Jason’s wrists, pressing in with his thumbs to feel the racing beat of his pulse. “I’d prefer to think of myself as a keeper.”

The scrape of Jason’s teeth against the valley of his collarbones makes Tim gasp. When he pulls back, Tim gets caught in the razor edge of Jason’s smile. “A keeper?”

“Yes, a collector of things.” Tim shivers.

“How poetic.” Jason pauses to skim his fingertips over the dip in Tim’s throat before he leans back down to whisper in his ear. “But I call bullshit, little thief.”

Tim arches up into the heat of Jason’s body over him. “Robins don’t steal.”

Hot air hits Tim’s neck when Jason huffs out a sharp laugh. “You haven’t been Robin for a long time.” To emphasis his words, Jason rubs a thigh against the heat between Tim’s legs. He’s so fucking hard and Jason hasn’t even kissed him yet.

“We don’t steal,” Tim breaths out. “We…ahhh…keep important things safe.”

“Are you flirting with me?” Jason asks, his hands moving again, burning against Tim’s skin.

Tim pushes his face against the cool leather of Jason’s jacket, bunched up next to his pillow on the bed, and breathes in the other man’s scent. Yes, he’d stolen it. Yes, he thinks of himself as Jason’s keeper. Yes, he wants Jason. Yes, he knows how incredibly, incredibly stupid he is.

“Yes,” Tim answers, but it comes out more like a moan when Jason pulls him down, makes it so that his legs are hanging off the edge the bed.

“Is this how you want me?” Jason asks softly, kneeling down between Tim’s spread legs.

In the second it takes for Jason’s fingers to skim just under the hollows of his ribcage, Tim almost forgets that this had been his plan all along.

And still, his breath pulls from his chest almost painfully. Jason watches, still and focused, but his heavy lids give him away.

Tim brings up two slender fingers to trace the strong line of Jason’s jaw, down and up. They settle, finally, on the seam of Jason’s parted lips.

“Perfect,” Tim agrees, before sliding a finger into the responsive, wet heat of Jason’s mouth. “Now show me what these pretty lips can do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hosting a JayTim week up on the old tumblr. Interested?
> 
> Follow at JayTimWeek on tumblr for more info. : )


End file.
